Page 64 of The Caretaker
“Is that something you would want?” he asked, his gaze tender and reassuring. If I said no, I knew he’d be okay with it, and would never pressure me or bring the subject up again. I went back to that place inside me, to that deep cavernous pit,and thought about how it would feel to fill some of that space up. There was no getting over Gavin, but maybe I could add a bit of happiness in there.
“With you?” I asked rhetorically. “Definitely.”
Noon pulled me higher up his body to kiss my forehead and then my cheeks before settling me into the crook of his neck.
“Feels like we’ve crammed years into these three months,” I whispered against his skin, kissing and biting at him gently.
“That’s how life should be,” he replied. “We should never waste a minute of it.”
Three months.Patrick and Stacey would be returning next week, and although we’d done our best not to let the anxiety of facing them get to us, there wasn’t a call or text that had come through on either of our phones that hadn’t filled our stomachs with dread. They’d reach out, or we would, because we needed to sever that part of our lives to move forward with creating a new one.
“I can’t believe all this time neither of them has called. Not once has Patrick called or sent a text to check if I was still alive after what he did to me and how he left things. My brother is his best friend. If he couldn’t give two shits about me, he could’ve at least had the decency to give a damn about how Gav would feel once he found out what he did to me.” I’d spoken to my brother last week, and he didn’t know anything. I’d have to tell him eventually. I shot up, suddenly enraged. “And Stacey, what have you ever done but love her? This is how she repays you? Isn’t the fact that you’ve shared so much of your life with someone worth them caring about how you were getting through the worst time of it?”
“Hey,” Noon whispered, sitting up to take my throat between his hands, squeezing gently until I’d calmed, until I’d submitted. “How about we be grateful for all of it? Look at what we have here.” He peered around the forest teeming with life, at the smallfamily of deer peeking at us from beyond the trees. “We need to be thanking them, not hating them.”
I sighed. It wasn’t hate that drove my reaction, though. It was my anxiety about their return. “You’re right.”
“I know I am.”
I rolled my eyes at him for the second time that day. “I wish I would’ve picked up on your nasty habit of thinking you know it all a lot sooner,” I said. I found myself on my back again because of it.
“We are not having sex out here again,” I said sternly, fighting against his hold on the zipper of my jeans. “It’s getting cold, and we promised Pauly we’d come by the bistro for dinner.”
Noon grumbled about not being in the mood to have to chuck another dart at Pauly’s head for flirting with me tonight.
“You secretly love when he pushes your buttons,” I said, watching him stand and zip into his jacket. “You get to pound on your chest and claim me as yours like some caveman. Then, you’re so worked up by the time we get home that you can’t even take the time to remove your clothes—or mine—before bending me over the nearest surface and taking your unspent jealousy out on me.”
“You’re right,” he mused, stepping out of my line of sight as I began stuffing our trash into the backpack. “I do enjoy it, but that’s our little secret. Anyway, let’s go to the tavern instead. We haven’t been there yet, and I’m dying to take photos of the place.”
Because of Noon, the words “photo,” “picture,” and “camera” had been added to the list of words that triggered me. I stood with a groan, spinning toward him only to be greeted by his damn camera lens. He managed to snap a few before I snatched it from him, hiding it behind my back when he reached for it. I hadn’t even known he’d brought it with us. I’d have to start frisking him before we left the house.
“Other than Pauly’s, we haven’t been anywhere but the farmhouse,” I said. “You won’t keep your hands off of me long enough to actually do anything in Haley Cove. I thought you wanted to see the museum. Check out the cultural center. We haven’t even been to the supermarket.”
Noon grabbed me by a belt loop, hauling me into him. “Your food delivery app has gotten us by just fine. We’ll do all that other stuff next week. I promise.”
“Let me guess,” I said dryly. “This week you want to lie naked on the couch all day.”
“Is that so bad?” he asked, frowning. I scratched at the stubble lining his jaw. It took me shaving him and trimming his hair for either to get done nowadays.
“No, it’s not,” I said, pulling his head down and lifting up onto my toes to kiss him. “I’ll never complain about how obsessed you are with me.” That earned me a swat to the ass. He helped me into my jacket before scooping up the blankets, and then we were off, racing through the woods again. What Noon gave me was all I’d ever wanted, and the feelings of love and devotion and obsession were mutual. We were completely infatuated with each other, and I loved it. I’d never take any of it for granted.
We ended up at the Haley Cove Tavern that evening—after I’d convinced him to go to both the museum and cultural center beforehand. Noon loved it all, and I even allowed him to pay for dinner after he’d complained that I hadn’t let him pay for anything since arriving there. Aside from materials and labor for the renovations—which I insisted on covering the cost for—there really hadn’t been much to pay for. When we ate out, we did so for free at Pauly’s.
He’d signed and stuffed the dinner receipt in his pocket for the scrapbook idea he’d come up with.
“It’s for the kids,”he’d said.“I’m going to chronicle our lives here for them. Starting with the best restaurant in town.”
“I think that’s a great idea,”I’d said, letting him blind me with his camera’s flash as he pleaded with me to say cheese for the kids.
We didn’t hurry to make love when we got back to the farmhouse. We showered and cuddled up on the couch in front of the fire, giving voice to our dreams for the future.
“Would you want another boy?” Noon asked.
“It doesn’t matter. As long as they’re happy and healthy. What about you?” I dragged a finger along his collarbone as he combed his fingers through my damp hair. He normally braided it for me after a shower. Tonight he wanted it free. He’d said it was easier to fist and tug when the strands were unbound.
“A girl. And I’d want her to have your big blue eyes and long, ashen-colored hair. I’d want her to have your kindness too. And your sweetness. Oh, and I’d want her to be mild-mannered like you too.”
“So essentially, you’d like a clone of me,” I deadpanned.
